


Pink with Affection

by orphicwaltz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Gen, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Lance (Voltron), Pink Haired Shiro, soft and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 12:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15413010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphicwaltz/pseuds/orphicwaltz
Summary: Pining from the sidelines was Plan A.When Lance continued to receive a sweet, yet oblivious smile over the dining table, he knew it wasn't working. The sight was familiar, but he longed for something more. If getting Shiro's affection was impossible, aiming for his attention instead might work.After all, one could not simply still look dazzling when their hair was a hot pink mess... right?





	Pink with Affection

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to the people in the Shance Support Squad server, who not only inspired this piece with their ideas, but also pushed me towards the finish line. Thank you for having the patience to wait for me to finish.
> 
> [Em](https://a-carefully-curated-mess.tumblr.com), thank you once again for checking over the writing, making sure I don't have any accidental mistakes.
> 
> [Inspiration](http://godsensei.tumblr.com/post/175699208463)
> 
> Please click on the heart for a song to listen to whilst reading.

{ [♡](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGPeNN9S0Fg) }

 

Since the Paladins were whisked off Earth to a castle strange with battles yet to be won, they had the opportunity to know each other more intimately. As brothers-in-arms, as comrades, as friends - or in some cases, something more.

Between Hunk and Pidge, it was a familiar banter which arose during meal times, a bubbling jumble of jargon which pieced to complete a puzzle. They bounce ideas off each other, voices rising, interrupted only by momentary comments from the other Paladins. When a piece fell into place, they would race off towards their workspace, algorithms and plans beginning construction.

_“If we configure the particle barrier to connect directly with the main turbine, it could hold for longer!”_

_“And if we link in one of the side turbines in as an emergency energy source-”_

_“Yes! Code everything with the algorithm we talked about yesterday to avoid the particle barrier taking energy from both, weakening the ship’s attack system and it should work!”_

It was with fondness and exasperation that they were allowed to escape, whilst the third in their trio - Lance himself - waved his arms dramatically, explaining how he would go past later with snacks to fuel the two.

They were a team - a meme team, a _dream_ team - who worked together better than any piece of machinery or technology. They were the one thing he feared when their quick witted heads had caught onto his feelings, their attention seeking out answers for his strange behaviours. Specifically those surrounding the _‘miniscule’_ sparks of affection he held for their team leader.

Keith’s protective scalding comments he could handle - a hint of _sass_ was sprinkled on his own words as he flung them back. Allura was curious and prodding, but respecting of what he wished to share - a wondrous conversationalist when he felt the pressing desire to speak of the overflowing emotions which made his heart _ache_. Coran encouraged Lance’s growing attraction with his own anecdotes and a knowing look at the end of each tale he soon understood - a sign of the older Altean’s approval.

Hunk and Pidge were unavoidable. Having known Lance for the longest, they knew how to pry and prod in the right ways for him to spill out an endless ramble about the long standing adoration he had of his idol turned crush. Hesitant and suspicious at first, Hunk managed to reel him back with promises of staying quiet as Pidge chirped in agreement. He shouldn’t have believed such promises as they both lasted for a quintent or two before they started teasing and asking questions.

As for Shiro, he was sweetly _oblivious_ in a way which tipped Lance over the edge - close to fawning, close to groaning, close to blurting out a stream of heartfelt words. One did not have to look close to see how _obvious_ his affections were.

Lance was the element of water, filling the gaps with a steady flow of talk and action. However, many knew him as the element of _surprise_. Surprise, not in the way that Keith was - instinct filled, blood pumping, with flighty feet, fast to the point that his next moves were unpredictable. His form of surprise sprouted from a mischievous streak he developed from years of pranking with his siblings. Although it seemed like simple games, their family’s competitive personalities stirred up an all out war, with alliances that split up members left and right to form cohesive groups of hidden secrets.

One of the classic tricks was one where dye was used to streak the opposing team’s hair with various shades of colour. Despite no one looking particularly horrible when the prank was done, it was amusing to watch, particularly in public. There were always those onlookers who would stare at the strangely coloured strands as they sauntered by.

Care and thought was put into a process made complicated by observant eyes, those which caught on far too easily when the coloured dyes stood bold against the original shampoo colours. Pink wasn’t often used as the red dye stood out bright against the pale shampoo. On the instances it did appear in the hair prank, it was a particularly _clashing_ hue.

Therefore, Lance was determined to brew up a hilarious moment. By mixing red dye with someone’s hair products, the dye would run pink across their stands - a stand out shade induced.

Altean shampoo was already strange in colour, an iridescent _sheen_ coating the the thick liquid, changeable in colour. Hunk was already in on the plans whilst Pidge decided to jump aboard after hearing who they had chosen to be their unsuspecting victim: _Shiro._

The stars above blessed the man with handsome looks, but even so, one could not simply still look dazzling when their hair was a hot pink mess. Shiro was an _angel_ \- a hauntingly beautiful one. His sculpted marble muscles prominent underneath a layer of smooth skin. His posture casual, calm, yet alert to a call of action. His smile, the tilt of his head, the raising of his hand,  the lift of his lips producing a soft radiant glow.

The Latino didn’t fall only for Shiro’s outward appearance, but there was an appeal that drew him in - drew everyone in. Such beauty and grace was to be admired - for Lance, this was a pining, dreamy gaze that tracked Shiro as he walked, spell lifted only when Pidge pinched him hard. Nevertheless, the charms of his hero surely would falter, fail and _fall_ in the aftermath of the prank. 

Lance thought he unconsciously prepared himself for the scene that would claim his sight. Even the greatest pranksters could plummet, vulnerable to the surprise of the smallest of gifts.

What he saw left him stunned, requiring a moment or two to process.

Pranks took patience, for the outcome wasn’t often imminent at first. However, Lance had no patient unlike his usual self. There was an urge to see how his plans turned out - did they flourish and succeed or did Shiro manage to catch onto his attempts?

 

A day of boredom overtook his schedule as Lance sat around, twirling a pen absentmindedly as he contemplated his future ideas and thoughts upon what he could do. It was an relaxing instance where all was quiet and peaceful - Pidge and Hunk were doing project work, whilst Allura and Coran were making small discussions about the Voltron Coalition - after the rowdy, yet warm period of team bonding they had this afternoon.

Lance leaned his head back, neck craning in a stretching before his body slumped. Shining sapphire eyes fluttered shut, closing itself off from the world temporarily. The silence was interrupted by a series of giggles and laughter, followed by an amused _“wait til Lance sees this”_ before a door slid shut. The noises disappeared with the final thud.

With his name mentioned and the hesitation before shoes began to hit the floor, an ascending sound thudded against his chest. He tensed - eyes still shut, but body alert and ready, battle trained to switch his sense on.

_Tap, tap, tap._

Instinctually, his foot began to tap softly, a rhythm different from his own heartbeats, an indication of how he was feeling. Lance was nervous and excited, for the voice had been Hunk’s, the giggles like Pidge’s, the footsteps eerily similar to Shiro’s - a steady, serene beat unlike the erratic accelerando his heart was experiencing. Would the prank make Shiro the laughing stock of the castle? That was highly likely considering the Black Paladin could wear anything and still look unabashedly _attractive_ -

“Lance? Pidge and Hunk told me to come find you for help- You don’t happen to know how to take this colour off, do you?” Came the hesitant voice of the said leader, the door having slid open when his thoughts overtook his mind, racing to conquer the rising emotions.

“Sure, I’d be happy to- Whoa.” His breath hitched as he _stared_. Lance didn’t mean to be rude, but his eyes drunk in the sight before him eagerly without haste. There was no way someone was allowed to still look that _gorgeous_ in pink hair.

The pink had paled to a pretty pastel, white strands creeping out through the cotton candy waves that swept forward, the iconic lock of hair falling over his face. It was spun from the sunset clouds he still dreamed of when his nightly hours led his mind back to the times of the past. A time where gravity weighed down his ambitions, his fantasies, his free spirit and soul searching for satisfaction unable to be fulfilled. For the adventures of Earth amounted to nothing against the adventures of space. 

“That is illegal- You are _illegal_ , you shouldn’t be allowed to look that good in that-” his hands moved in a random motion as he stumbled over his words. Trapped in his throat, they threatened to flow out all at once, along with his affections which everyone, except Shiro, had already uncovered at this point.

Shiro shifted from his position of leaning against the frame of the door, stepping into the room as Lance continued to babble, criticizing himself for trying to prank Shiro in the first place whilst complimenting the other for his  _“allure and appeal that never seemed to quiznaking fail”._

The now pink haired male’s arms were crossed, yet loosened as his cheeks began to heat up to a pleasant pink - matching his pastel dyed tresses - before flushing beyond the point into rosy crimson. The blush spilled over his cheeks, a delicate brushstroke which dabbed across the bridge of his nose, splashing over to tint the tips of his ears. Clearly, Shiro was embarrassed - as he would later come to admit - at the fact that he had been caught in the frivolity, in the game, but more so, by the comments, the claims, the _compliments_. 

“Lance,” Shiro began, his voice low and full of bashfulness as he tried to catch Lance’s attention.

“Lance. _Lance_.” Even with his voice emphasising the other’s name, the paladin was lost in his own words and thinking. His fingers tapped on his bionic arm, awaiting an indication of Lance hearing him calling.

“You know, I was waiting for your hair to turn hot pink so I could laugh over it, but you had to go look pretty _and_ hot and wreck me even more!”

“Lance is _whining_!” Was the comment that came hurling back at his latest compliment of the man in his room. Needless to say, Lance felt it necessary to defend himself, tossing back quickfire reply which drew the trio of friends into a verbal debate.

“Pidge, shut up! It’s none of your business!”

“Just like how your not-so-little crush on him is none of our business?”

“Pidge!”

“We’re helping you get your man, buddy.”

“Hunk, you are meant to be on _my_ side!”

“Sorry Lance, I can’t hear you over the sound of your heart going _pow pow pow_ for him.”

“I am _betrayed_.” Rising from his seat, he flitted over to the door, which slid open upon sensing his presence. Peering out, the currently shared workroom of Pidge and Hunk - he knew they had chosen one nearby to his room in order to watch - had its doors closed innocently. As if they could fool him. Although they had the good graces to not explicitly say Shiro’s name, they knew that he was in Lance’s room and he did not want to take any chances of discovery.

Behind Lance, Shiro had unknowingly raised his head a tad, dark soulful eyes reflecting his inner feelings of conflict and confusion. He dared not speak of his curiosity which had risen from the interactions, threatening to snake out past his lips and trap his fellow teammate with the obligation to reply. His head hungered, thirsted to be sated with knowledge that could strengthen or shatter him.

Softly sang his fragile heart, pure and true to its owner’s intentions. Others thought he was fortitude and tenacity at its finest. They didn’t see the gentleness at the core, surrounded by a body crafted from a _galaxy_ , made to protect a diamond centre concealed by breakable stone.

_Who was the ‘him’ they were talking about?_

“About the dye… it will come out by itself in a couple of days. There isn’t actually a way to get it all out in one go,” Lance answered, his eyes returning to continue their appreciation of the change. Justifying his reason for staring rudely would require him delivering a point about eye contact - how it was important to maintain it when speaking to other people - with the excuse that Shiro was looking down.

“ _But_ …” the word was stretched out, as if he had caught the thought and was contemplating it, “there is something I can do.”

The confusion in the older man's eyes broke, giving way to questioning, to encouragement for his companion to carry on describing his ideas.

“I can comb through it for you and check that the dye hasn’t knotted up anything.” The words formed and fell out before he could stop them. Not only did he pull the prank, he also proposed a solution completely unrelated to the question Shiro asked in the first place.

As his lips parted to discard his silly suggestion, he was cut off by a shy response of agreement.

“If you don’t mind me taking you up on that offer… thanks for the concern Lance.”

_He agreed._

Surprise was his element, but Shiro had stolen it - along with his heart - through his ability to still be a stunning knockout even in pastel pink hair, and more importantly, his trust in Lance.

“U-Uh… just sit down on my bed and make yourself comfortable. I’ll go and find the brush.”

Glancing at Shiro as he moved towards the bed, Lance concentrated hard on finding the brush. Finding it in one of the storage containers, he plucked it out before closing the container, setting it to one side.

Crossing the room, his slippers were kicked off as he clambered onto the bed, half kneeling, half sitting behind the taller body of Shiro. Unintentionally, he scanned for signs of tension or discomfort. Nothing other than the regular awareness that all the Paladins had developed from their quintents of battling.

His eyes were then enticed by the rosy strands before him - soft and sweet. If Lance combed through the hair with his fingers, they would _sink_ into the smooth silkiness, never to leave.

Was it a bad decision to agree to the offer? Perhaps Lance didn’t truly want to do this, and only wished to appease him enough to be sent away without feelings of dismay. The pink did clash with everything that he owned and wore, but it was _nice_. Nice in a different sense, lightening his mood and those who saw it, raising the gloomy aura of the castle.

Shiro was about to excuse himself when fingers skated along his neck, up the spiky shortness to bury themselves into the main bulk of the strands. The sensation was tickling, causing him to tense for a moment before relaxing as the fingers stroked in a combing fashion.

Within the first few ticks of ‘combing’ Shiro’s hair, Lance reached one conclusion - he must have washed and thoroughly dried his hair before coming here, as there was no other reason for it to feel that soft and downy.

His fingers scraped and danced across the scalp, finding the spots of tension to ease with the gentle circular motion of massaging. Lying at the side was the forgotten brush, for the two had come to a silent agreement that their current methods were better.

A crave for physical affection was satisfied and the position they were easing into, could easily be furthered into cuddles if they decided to go forth with it.

Leaning back, Lance managed to adjust his pillow to avoid neck cramps as Shiro fell slowly back against his chest, comforted by both warmth and touch. He took a moment to slip one hand back down to the neck, taut in their current arrangement, which was soon due for yet another shift.

After the blue eyed paladin loosened up the muscles stretching across the span of the neck, he cradled Shiro’s head as he carefully laid it down onto lap. Having caught the signals Lance was sending, a small slide forth had helped them readjust with ease - Lance resting against the pillow, with his thighs cushioning Shiro’s head.

Talented fingers danced along his forehead, settling at his temple to continue the movement. Shiro closed his eyes and drowned in _blue_. Drowned in the feelings brought by the basic action, the waves washing over him soothingly as Lance began to hum an unknown tune.

Admittedly, he hadn’t slept well in the past few days between the plaguing nightmares, the frantic worries and the campaign of the coalition. This prank was a spot of anxiety for Shiro at first - how was he to appear at the coalition meetings and expect their allies to take him seriously in _pink hair_? However, it had taken a twist, melting into a good natured laugh with Pidge and Hunk, a bewildered look from Keith before diving into a therapeutic session of relaxation and comfort with Lance.

 

“I’m sorry about the prank,” came a soft murmur which stirred Shiro from his drowsiness. Continuing to listen, his eyes remained a curtain to the outside world, closing out the lights and action for now.

“Okay, I did want to make you look funny and have a laugh, but it backfired on me and you still look drop dead _gorgeous_.” Once again, his fingers entered back into the field of peony pink, carding through the locks smooth against his skin - a blossoming bud’s petals. 

The act itself seemed effortless, completed with a practiced, yet gentle manner. Shiro imagined Lance smoothening back his own brown locks - the colour of roasted cinnamon -  when he was stressed and needed a moment of calamity before continuing on with his work.

“I mean, the pink works. It might even suit you. _I_ could certainly get used to it.” A quiet chuckle followed his statement. Next time, he would most certainly consider his schemes cautiously before proceeding, lest he’d be tripped over by the same dilemmas as this time.

“I would miss your old hair after a while though.” A sigh bubbled at his lips, escaping with a puff of air as his heart began to _throb_ against his chest once again.

_If only I had the courage…_

“I would tell you that you looked devastatingly dashing _every_ day. Everyone would get sick of me- You would too,  but I would still do it.” Lance’s voice was a low whisper, quiet enough that Shiro had to crane his neck slightly to hear.

_Calm down._ He had to calm down, before the warmth of his burning blush indicated to how he was obviously eavesdropping on Lance’s thoughts.

“You’re just so… oblivious! It’s frustrating, especially when I say something or do something to show you how I feel. Keith ends up glaring at me and it flies over your head!” There was a period of silence and a muted _“hey!”_  before his companion began to speak again.

“Okay, it was cute at first, but still!”

Pidge was right - Lance did whine. Contrary to the popular belief though… he didn’t think it was annoying, it was more _adorable_ if anything.

Shiro’s mind conjured up an image of Lance and a small puppy, comparing the two. Lance’s hands in his hair were reduced down to one, as the other untangled itself. The infamous puppy pout that no one in the castle could refuse, combined with the typical Lance hand waving - that was a familiar sight made him smile fondly.

“-and I wish I could kiss you without the consequences, but the universe has to _always_ to come first! I trained with you, I made you breakfast, I _danced_ with you…" 

His breath was drawn back briefly.  

_What is it, Lance?_

“… and you still can’t catch the hint.”

Realisation slammed into the sleepy male. Restrain was what he required before he bolted up and frightened Lance away with how he had been listening all along. Real, this was all _real_ \- it was more than a scene of his imagination, Lance was more than a figure of his thoughts, their feelings were more than wisps of hopefulness trapped within.

It was the honest truth, presented in a reality where they were reciprocated, where he could act upon them.

“Maybe you needed to play _kiss the girl_ for him to see.”

_That was not how I planned the confession._

“Shiro, you’ve been spending too much time around Pidge. It’s a song, not a game.” He needed to stop being surprised by Shiro - it was meant to be the _other_ way round. Certainly, he couldn’t mean what the song referenced to… right?

“But I did mean it, Lance. I wanted to kiss you when we danced, I want to kiss you now-” By now, Shiro’s eyes had opened as he fumbled over his reply, arm raising to brush his fingers against the hand frozen in midair.

Trying to produce a suitable answer was hard and his lack of experience stood out starkly. Rather than pretending that he knew what to do, his fingers laced with Lance’s, thumb rubbing over his knuckles reassuringly. Sincerity ran deep in his tone, as his emotions shone in the dark brown orbs beneath his lashes, pure and genuine.

“If you want to, that is.”

“Why did you say so sooner?” Lance burst out, his own hand tightening around Shiro’s, a sign of his desires to keep the comforting gesture.

_Stay. Stay and tell me why you left me searching in the dark because you just wouldn’t tell-_

“I didn’t think you would reciprocate the feeling.” That was the most ridiculous thing Lance had the heard in a while.

“ _You_ thought _I_ wouldn’t like you?” Echoed the disbelief in reply to the phrase that had floored him.

There was a shuffling sensation across his lap and Lance looked down to see Shiro shrugging, as if the statement was natural. Insecurities he understood, but how would anyone _not_ fall for a wonderful person like Shiro?

“Maybe you should kiss me and find out for yourself!”

Slowly, Shiro pulled himself up, his eyes searching Lance’s for hesitation. Intense blue challenged him -  _go ahead_ \- but he didn’t rise to the bait.

The cool impression of Shiro’s hand cupped Lance’s cheek, stroking gently like how Lance had been stroking Shiro’s hair before. A lean against the touch was given rather than a flinch, setting off the sparks of affection from the depths of his inner consciousness.

“Maybe I will.”

Warmth sprung from the midst of shock as Shiro leaned in, pressing his lips against Lance’s.

Some described a kiss as a burst of fireworks, passionate and fiery. There was no words to illustrate their first, but later when they recounted the story, their eyes would soften at the thought. For it was melody and harmony bursting from the seams -  something good, something beautiful, something _right_ \- drawing them together.

Parting for a breath - for Shiro had stolen his - he managed a faint sentence of sass.  

“That was _weak_.”

“It was an awkward angle!” The almost instant answer, a protest against his initial reaction. Lance’s sudden laughter was responded by a huff, his partner’s head turning to the side. Leading Shiro’s attention back to him, his hand slipped back, fingers sensing the warmth of the blush as they coiled into the pink hair again. With a simple move, he had Shiro’s eyes back upon his.

They both floundered during the kiss at first, tilting their heads to try find the right position. It was hardly perfect, but it was _theirs_.

“I demand another kiss to make up for that horrible one you gave me just then,” he whispered against their lips, hot breath fanning over Shiro’s cheeks.

Shiro’s hand never left Lance’s as he slid down into a lying position, tugging the other down with him. A protective arm curled around the flushed Blue Paladin, urging him close to snuggle against the broad chest. Buried against the safeguard of a returned love, Lance’s eyes flickered up before shutting.

Inaudible, hushed whispers, calm like water curling up to meet the land. Tides and foam lapping at the wet sand, pushing the heightening shoreline where footsteps washed away, leaving no trace behind.

Tender, reassuring caresses, constant like celestial beings racing across a limitless sky. Asteroids and meteoroids scattering stardust in their wake, forming a space where suns rise up, horizon bound.

Shiro kissed his forehead.

“I would give you all the kisses, all the stars in the sky, all of myself, if you wished for it.” 

 

_For theirs was a dedicated love, written not in the stars, but in their hearts._  

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking time out of your day to read this piece and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> If you have any constructive criticism or things that you enjoyed, please leave a comment below and I will try my best to take it all into account next time I write. 
> 
> My private messages on [twitter](https://twitter.com/orphicwaltz) are always open for discussion as well.


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